fraud
by kathleenfergie
Summary: She had been so smart, so bright, and full of happiness. She loved working with the animals, mostly the monkeys. I didn't mean to cause the accident, which I should really refer to as the explosion, but I had been too caught up with my science and her magic, and it happened so very fast that I couldn't stop it. Then I sent her away, told her never to return. Oneshot. Very AU.


_Alright, so the concept for this piece is kind of whacked. It's Wizard of Oz, but it's not at the same time. It's set before the Dorothy arc, but at the same time set like like a long time after the Wicked Witch became the Wicked Witch. The idea is that the Witch was like an intern or an assistant for the Wizard when they were both young (sort of like in Wicked, except the Wizard is not her father), and she actually used to be normal (that he caused her green-ness), and that both the Good Witch of the North and Wicked Witch of the East were her two sisters. Because I have no idea how the people in the Oz world age, I'm assuming that the Wizard and the Witches are like hundreds of years old, because creative license. It's meant to be Wizard/Wicked Witch of the West, but it's more so just the Wizard reflecting on what he's done. Also, the 'accident' that happens with the WWoW, I won't explain it fully, just assume something ridiculously horribly happened, which made her green, and then her two sisters reacted about it. I don't know, it's all up to your imagination to fill in that. I just sort of took the characters and played around with them. And I kind of mad the Wizard a scientist instead of 'Wizard' b/c in WoO, Dorothy realizes he's a fake, etc. Also, because I didn't want to use Wicked's characters, the Witches and Wizard are only referred to by their titles. I own nothing._

Nobody ever asked where the monkeys came from. Ah, yes, those dreary creatures. The munchkins only ever knew to run away in fear when the flapping of wings and inhuman shrieks filled the sky. I've seen one too many get snatched up into the air by the flying beasts. Accompanying their noises were often the maniacal snickers of that dreaded woman, who we all knew was too far gone. I used to stand at my window and watch her fly, the feeling of guilt welling in my stomach as my city sparkled around me. I have given up on that hobby, however. I knew nothing good could come of her endeavors outside the boundaries of her own dark tower.

And yet I stayed away.

I holed myself up in this green tower, building my city around me, building machines and contraptions. I hid behind my work, the work that we once shared, because I was too ashamed to realize the truth behind that vial woman, how she had come to be like she was. Green, ugly, evil.

Once, it was not so.

I remember when she was beautiful.

Her hair had always been black as night, but back then it had flowed like a river. Now its texture was reduced to that of the straw on her broomstick. She had blue eyes, but they were so light they almost looked grey. Her teeth weren't crooked and he nose was still straight. The mole had been quite smaller, too.

And she wasn't green, but the blame for all these thing can and have been placed on me. It had never been intentional, but I guess my young foolishness had led me to deceive her, to rob her of a life where she didn't live with the fear of dying when a sudden rainstorm appeared. I, too, held my breath whenever I heard the clash of thunder. Not only had I destroyed her, but her two sisters, as well, had been separated by the ever present choice: good or bad?

In the end, one chose the latter, with the eldest choosing the former.

Those sisters had been loved by all quite some time ago. One was still loved, her blond hair sparkling like the sun, her quirky way of travel happily recognized by the small inhabitants of Munchkinland, who were constantly traumatized by the youngest.

She hailed from East the same way her wicked sister did the West. I don't know how, but she somehow duplicated the broom-travel. I assumed her sister showed her, but without the science part, I've no idea how they accomplished it. She also always wears those sparkling ruby slippers, a glimmer of beauty in her sea of evil. All three of those sisters had fought for those shoes once, from me, and how the youngest got them, I'll never know. I assume she stole them from me, only that one day I woke up and they were on her feet. Never did like that sister.

The eldest, the good one, though, I liked her. I still do. She's always been a great help to stem the flow of terror the other two created, and I've always been grateful for that. In turn, I helped her perfect her way of travel. The bubble idea had always baffled me, but in the end, with enough magic and science put together, she was successful. While their magic was powerful, it still needed a kick of my science. I helped all of them perfect their dirty secrets.

That was back in the days when we believed the same things, however.

The broom idea came into play years before she decided to leave all that she knew behind, before the accident and all that it entailed. She had researched different kinds of objects that you could manipulate to be flyable, and after several different prototypes, she came up with the broom. She had always been smart. I liked her. Maybe a bit more than liked, but I'll never know. That was years ago. She had been so smart, so bright, and full of happiness. She loved working with the animals, mostly the monkeys, and she loved learning. We learnt together everyday.

Her whole family had been lovely, but the end result will always be my fault.

I didn't mean to cause the accident, which I should really refer to as the explosion, but I had been too caught up with my science and her magic, and it happened so very fast that I couldn't stop it. The green colour didn't show up until days afterward, after she had been unconscious for some time. When she awoke, though, she could see the poorly hidden disgust on my face, and she spent a short time avoiding me. At the time I had thought she was revolting, I didn't recognize the fact that I was just as disgusting, but I was young and did not know what results would come of my actions.

Having someone that you come to hate confess their love for you is never easy. I sent her away from me and I ordered her never to return. She became like she is now, and I have come to terms with my betrayal. I know that while most people call me 'great and powerful,' I am nothing but a fake and sick old man who's ideas of vanity ruined his life. Her life. Their lives.

I tore a family apart in a day and I have never apologized. I probably never will. Not to her.

Maybe one day, to the good one, but not to the other two.

They'd probably kill me if I came out of hiding, if I came out from behind my contraptions and fake magic, if I stepped foot outside of my glimmering tower. Alas, that shall not happen. Not even if they try to drag me out. I've given up trying to change her, to somehow make everything right again. I've stayed hidden so that she can never point out what I have done to her and to our world. So that people cannot know I am a fraud.

That I am only a weak, powerless, old man.


End file.
